Prison Sentence
by Leveragefan101
Summary: Prison isn't enjoyable for anyone, yet when life is about to get hard outside the prison walls for your family. It becomes even harder for those on the inside.
1. Chapter 1

I do not own the Sons of Anarchy.

Walking down the concrete corridor, I felt the weight of the situation hit me harder with each step I took. The squeak of my gray converse and the click of the woman's high heels that were behind me, were the only sounds heard as I walked down the long corridor, one guard was stationed at the door we were heading towards, his military stance and rifle making him an ominous figure, the only difference between this guard and the one we left at the last checkpoint was he seemed a whole lot larger and more imposing. I guess that would make sense he was the last guard between us and the inmates on the other side, only the inmates on the other side didn't scare me as much as the guard did. I grew up around inmates, for my mom's family, going to prison was practically a right of passage, all five of my uncles had spent had spent at least two years each in the confines of a concrete building, where everything was stripped of them and the only way to survive was protection from gangs and clubs. It always fascinated me that they were willing to do anything to protect whom they deemed family. Only it scared me how hard it became for them once they were released, two of them died in prison, another got lucky and escaped it only for him to come back to it a year later, but the other two had been smart and gotten with the gangs that ruled the yard and once their sentence was up they joined the club that had protected them on the inside.

Finally reaching the end of the corridor, and standing two feet in front of the guard that was dressed in a black button up and dark khaki colored slacks. The rifle held diagonally across his body, allowing for the muscles in his biceps to stretch the tight shirt. He was a good foot and a half taller than me but of course everyone had height on me since I wasn't finished growing, I had only four months ago made it to the age I could be called a teenager.

The guard glanced over at us before grabbing his keycard that was attached to his belt and swiping it through the card reader. A loud buzz could be heard echoing through the hallway before the sound of metal could be heard, the door made it halfway open before it was stopped by another guard and then opened all the way once the guards had nodded to each other. Walking through I saw the even rows of metal tables with chairs attached to them throughout the large room, people who had been in the waiting room with me earlier were now scattered throughout the room. I headed in the direction that had the least amount of guards hanging around, and gave us a nice view of the yard through the large bulletproof windows on the left side of the room.

Twenty minutes later, the inmates came in one at a time each wearing an orange pants and either a version of a white t-shirt or the matching orange jumpsuit shirt. I watched as almost a quarter of the room filled up before the man that I came to see walked in, his stance was similar to how it was when he was outside the barbed wire fence, like a panther ready to strike at any moment. Only difference here was his ever present leather cut wasn't hanging off his shoulders, looking at his hands where the thick heavy rings typically lied were now bare but his right hand wasn't a white bandage covered it, contrasting starkly with his tan skin and the black ink that was permanently etched into it.

As he came closer my eyes traveled to his face, his circle beard was more pronounced and gray hair was becoming more prominent, his lips turned into a quick smile seeing me before it went back to his neutral expression that made him so hard to read. He could be pissed or extremely happy, but if you don't notice the quickly disappearing facial expressions, you would never be able to tell.

My Aunt Gemma, well not my real Aunt but she was considered family on my dad's side, stood up to move to a table next to us to give the sense of privacy as he came up to me pulling me into a hug his strong long arms tightening around me as my small arms wrapped around his waist in a vice grip. The gruff voice of a guard the only reason we separated, once we had sat on opposite sides of the metal table, he spoke his voice raspy from the amount of cigarettes he has smoked in his lifetime, "how you doing Corrie?"

"I'm good," my voice thicker than I liked, as my eyes fell to the bandage covering his hand.

"Kid eyes up," his voice gruff and determined and I knew that if it wasn't for the fact that the guards watching the visitation room would of ended the visit if he grabbed my chin, he would of done it.

Tearing my eyes from the white bandage, I looked up into his dark eyes that matched my own only his wasn't pooling with tears as mine were.

His non-bandaged hand came to cover both of mine, "what's wrong, baby?"

"Mom, she's sick like real sick," my eyes glazed over as tears started down my tan cheeks.

His left hand tightened around my right hand as he brought it up his lips kissing it, "baby its okay, she'll get better, she's a tough bitch."

I shook my head as a sniffled and wiped my face with my free hand, "no daddy, she wont her doctor said she only has a month more." I could hear someone move before I felt Gemma's hand rubbing my back as more tears cascaded down my face and my breathing quickened.

I could tell he stopped talking to me as his voice seemed to be speaking above me, "is that why your here Gemma?"

"Yeah, Hap. I'm so sorry, Selena she wanted to tell you herself but she can barely get out of bed by herself."

"I'm not worried about that," his voice had hardened but I could tell he was, he loved my mom, his wife of fourteen years. "I want to make sure Corrie is safe, I get out in six months and if Lena doesn't make it till then I don't want to loose Corrie to the system."

"What about your mom?"

"She can't. She lives with my Aunt and a kid would be to much on them."

"Its okay Happy. Your family, we take care of our own, I got Corrie."

"Thanks."

Thanks for Reading. Please Review, I would love to read what you guys think.


	2. Chapter 2

I do not own Sons of Anarchy.

Looking at the beige colored brick walls, Happy sighed it had been three weeks and his body felt like it was on fire, the only thing running through his head was how Lena was doing, she was tough had always been but to be given a month left to live had to be a hard blow. It was excruciating for him and he wasn't even the one having to live with the sentence that basically said 'you're fucked no matter what you do.' He wanted to scream out at the unfairness of the world, here he was in prison for fighting and possession of marijuana, which were minor offenses in his life, he has killed multiple people, yet he was healthy and going home in five and a half months, while the love of his life is fighting for her life out of no fault of her own, the only criminal act she ever did was carrying an unmarked gun for her and Corrie's protection at his insistence.

She was the love of his life and he wouldn't be there to help her in her last days, fourteen years of marriage and the time that they needed to be together he was stuck in a cell with Juice, the twenty six year old man child, who was acting more like a caged tiger than his normal goofy self since hearing the news. Not that Happy could blame him, Lena was his older sister, and with a seven-year age gap she had acted more like a mom to him than anything else. He still remembered when Juice had shown up at eighteen, a black eye marring his left eye, during the dead of night, he had ended up waking up a five year old Corrina with his pounding on the door and asking if he could stay. Apparently New York held some people that would rather see the hacker, coding at a hospital, than coding on a laptop. Less than two years later Juice had became a member of SAMCRO.

Sighing Happy got up stretching his neck and back, relishing in the untightening of his muscles, one more hour and he could call home, hearing her voice always brought a smile to his face.

* * *

Hearing the click of his call being answered he left a weight fall off his shoulders at the voice of his little girl, "Daddy?"

"Hey kid. Can you put your mom on?"

"Yeah sure," a whooshing sound could be heard and he knew she was running towards the back of the three bedroom house, a couple seconds later her voice popped back in, "here she is, love you daddy."

"Love you, baby girl."

A moment later his wife's calm voice filtered through the phone, "Happy baby."

"Lena, how you doing today?"

"Tired but the doc says that's normal. The pain pills are working can't hardly feel my body," Selena spoke her breathing was heavy but she didn't need to pause as much as she did the last time she had spoken to him, a few days before.

"Well you hold in there, you're a fighter always have been," his voice sounded normal but he knew he was pleading. "Remember the first time we met," they had met at a bar she had been a bartender and when he walked in she had been breaking up a fight between two men who couldn't hold their beer and where too slow to notice the two punches she laid out that knocked them on their ass when they actually took a swing at her for getting in their way, he had ended up helping her drag the two men outside.

She chuckled a moment before she started coughing, a minute passed before she spoke up again, "Hey you take care of our little girl, I love you," her voice wasn't the calm it was a minute ago, the labored breathes she had taken and the exhaustion in her voice scared him to the very core along with the finality of her statement.

But he felt as if his heart stopped when he heard the phone crash to the floor and the strangled cries of 'mommy' from his daughter.

* * *

Walking back to his cell, his entire body felt as if it at any moment a bomb would go off. His hands vibrated and his eyes were as cold and dark as coal, inmates and guards alike kept their distance from him. It had been only four days since the phone call home and today he had been told that Selena had died early that morning after spending the last four days in the hospital while oxygen was given to her. Juice was still back in the room that the guard had taken them to so they could have a private conversation with the family about the passing. Juice had started crying the moment the guard had left the room, to let them deal with their emotions alone, but Happy knew there was another guard standing behind the glass mirror watching them and another watching the feed from the camera that was in the right hand corner of the room facing the door. Happy, himself, chose to just clench his teeth together and dig his short nails into the palm of his hands till the nail impression's bled and his knuckles where white from the force.

Because of who they were, according to their files, both Happy and Juice were not going to be able to attend the funeral of their loved one, which was to happen in three days. He was going to be able to call his daughter in a few hours and she was scheduled to visit a few days after the funeral.

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